


Turning 21 is Great!

by WolfMadeFromAsh



Category: Sterek - Fandom, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek and Stiles, Derek still has some issues, Drunk Stiles, Established Relationship, M/M, More emotionally stable Derek, sterek, stiles and derek - Freeform, stiles birthday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-12-07 15:15:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20977997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfMadeFromAsh/pseuds/WolfMadeFromAsh
Summary: Twenty-one.A huge milestone in anyone’s life; you go from sneaking out to parties in the woods to being about to walk proudly into a bar and say ‘Why yes, I am twenty-one. Here is my ID good sir’.It’s huge.Stiles’ experiences in the woods involved a little less alcohol and a little more life-threatening monsters. And his college experience wasn’t filled with frat parties on the weekends; it was more driving home Friday night to see his dad and a certain green-eyed werewolf.So, turning twenty-one, seemed bigger to Stiles; he wanted it to be bigger.





	Turning 21 is Great!

**Author's Note:**

> Just a story about Stiles turning 21 and his werewolf boyfriend making it amazing before all goes to hell just because he didn't tell him about an admirer he has at school. 
> 
> One more WIP finished! Yay for me!

Twenty-one.

A _huge_ milestone in anyone’s life; you go from sneaking out to parties in the woods to being about to walk proudly into a bar and say ‘Why yes, I _am_ twenty-one. Here is my ID good sir’.

It’s huge.

Stiles’ experiences in the woods involved a little _less_ alcohol and a little _more_ life-threatening monsters. And his college experience wasn’t filled with frat parties on the weekends; it was more driving home Friday night to see his dad and a certain green-eyed werewolf.

So, turning twenty-one, seemed bigger to Stiles; he _wanted_ it to be bigger.

\-----

Going to a club was marked down as a no, right away.

“Stiles, it’s your birthday.” Derek had told Stiles for the tenth time as he lay in bed next to him, his hand rubbing his back as he hunched over his laptop.

“No, I want you and Scott to have a good time too. All that noise and music probably goes straight through your head. Not to mention the smells.”

“It’s not that bad.”

“The music is terrible anyway.” Stiles shrugged.

Derek sighed, sitting up and pressing his lips to Stiles’ temple. “Whatever you say. But if you want to go to a club or anything equally loud, I promise it’s fine. I’m going to sleep, don’t stay up too late over thinking this.”

Stiles leans into Derek. “I’m right behind you.” He tells him as the wolf settles back down; Stiles’ arm reaches back blindly, patting his hip. “I’m almost done.”

\-----

He thought maybe a bar. Just a normal bar with stools and high bar tables and a pool table and dart board.

“You don’t want to head out to any of them around here.” His dad had told him as they sat in his office eating lunch one Saturday afternoon. “There’s none left in Beacon Hills, last one close 3 years ago. Not a big drinking town, no one seems to be able to keep the doors open for too long. There are a couple in the next town over, but they’re heavy with gang violence; werewolf boyfriend and best friend or not, I don’t want you near any of that. No sense putting yourselves in danger if it can be easily avoided. You’re hit with enough of that without any warning as it is.”

Stiles sinks in the chair across from his dad. “So, there’s no bars? Really?”

The sheriff gives his son a sympathetic smile. “Sorry kid, none that are near and safe.”

\-----

Dinner is the last thought he gets; that might be nice. A dinner with his dad and Derek? But, he kind of wants the whole pack. That makes dinner a huge production and _very_ expensive.

“Dude, we’ve all got some sort of jobs now to help balance the cost of school. We can cover it! We’ll all pool money and it’ll be _fine_.” Scott told him, sitting across from him in the library on a Tuesday afternoon.

Stiles looks up from his philosophy book, rolling his eyes. “My dad won’t take your money and neither would Derek. You know it would just end up with an argument between them about who’s going to take care of the bill. And I don’t want them spending an obscene amount of money just for my birthday.”

Scott snorts. “Dude, Derek dropped like $3500 renting out a theater to run all the Marvel movies for you, in the correct timeline order, before the last Avengers came out.”

“I…I didn’t ask him to do that.”

“No, you didn’t but he did it anyway.”

Stiles drops his best friends gaze, fanning the corners of his textbook. “It was our anniversary.” He says weakly.

“Yeah, and this is your birthday!”

“Okay, but it wouldn’t me just me their spending money on!”

“Shhh!” Another student turns to them with a glare that would rival Derek’s.

Stiles makes a pained face, waving apologetically. “Geez. Finals have everyone so on edge.” He complains.

“Look, we want to do something for you Stiles. We’ll all chip in for dinner, no one person will cover the bill.”

Stiles thinks it over for a minute before shaking his head. “No, there’s too many of us for that kind of thing anyway. And I don’t want a _party, _party, that will feel just like last year and I don’t want to trash anyone’s house either.”

Scott sighs, shaking his head. “Well bud, you’ve only got a couple days to figure out what we’re doing. Your birthday is this Friday.”

Stiles drops his head onto the table with a loud thud. “I know, I know. I’m starting to think about just _skipping_ the whole thing.”

“We’re not skipping your birthday.”

\-----

Stiles’ plan was to skip his Friday morning class and leave on Thursday after his last lecture; it was a later class, getting out after 7 and it was a 6 hour drive back to Beacon Hills. After pulling an all-nighter on Wednesday to finish a paper, Stiles knows before his 8 AM class, he won’t be making it home.

**{Stiles}: Please don’t hate me. I love you so much.**

Stiles shoots Derek a bleary-eyed text, gathering his things for class. His phone buzzes as he’s about to walk out of the apartment he and Scott share.

**{Sourwolf} You didn’t finish that paper Monday night, did you?**

Stiles scoffs, shaking his head.

**{Stiles}: I might have done everything you could imagine except that.**

**{Sourwolf}: So, you didn’t sleep then?**

**{Stiles}: Not in the traditional sense, no.**

**{Sourwolf}: And the non-traditional sense?**

Stiles blinks down at the screen.

**{Stiles}: Okay, maybe not in any sense. I’m running on fumes and I don’t even have time to get coffee let alone take a nap. I know you had this midnight date planned but there’s no way I’m going to be able to drive up after my last class. **

There’s no answer right away, so immediately Stiles starts to panic and think how he’s let Derek down and it took so long for them to get to a level where everything is just so damn perfect. They talk at length about emotions and feelings and Derek is different with him now and trusts him and loves him and he’s just ruined it all because he’s an idiot and put off this stupid paper.

**{Stiles}: You know what, I’ll make it. I’m being dramatic, I’m not even that tired! I’ll be there as planned. I can probably ditch my last class today and take a power nap and I’ll be there before you know it.**

**{Stiles}: Please don’t hate me. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!**

**{Stiles}: Don’t break-up with me. Please, I’m not above begging.**

**{Stiles}: Not that I’m trying to control you or tell you what to do! I mean, if you are going to break-up with me just don’t do it over text. At least let me beg to you face-to-face.**

**{Stiles}: We’re done, aren’t we? I fucked this all up and just threw away how many years it took for us to get here? I’m so fucking sorry, Derek!**

**{Stiles}: I swear, I love you.**

He has to pocket his phone as he walks into the lecture hall 10 minutes late; he takes his seat and fidgets throughout the whole class. There’s no response, at least if he felt the vibration of a new message he could relax. He knows Derek’s not going to break-up with him but now that it’s out there he can stop over thinking it. Maybe he just gave Derek the idea.

He drifts a little during his ethics class, it was a boring class he wanted to take online but of course it was not offered online this semester and his next two semester were planed out perfectly and he couldn’t give anything up.

He startles, closer to sleeping than just drifting, at the feeling of his phone buzzing from his pocket.

**{Sourwolf}: Why the hell would you think I’d break-up with you?? Has the lack of sleep really fried your brain that much?**

Stiles least out a sigh of relief.

**{Sourwolf}: And DO NOT DRIVE HOME. I don’t need your dad calling me to tell me you drove off into a ditch or wrapped the Jeep around a tree; I worry enough when you drive it on a normal day. That thing is going to fall apart on you at the worst possible time. **

**{Sourwolf}: Please do not drive home. It’s fine, I’ll see you tomorrow. Let me know when you leave, TOMORROW.**

Stiles rolls his eyes at his screen, shaking his head. Surprised when another message follows so quickly after the other two; he was rubbing off on him with his rapid fire texting.

**{Sourwolf}: I shouldn’t have to repeat this again, but I’m going to anyway, because you have a habit of not listening. Do NOT drive home tonight. You can’t miss the class, you have to hand in that damn paper.**

**{Sourwolf}: If you drive home to night, then I’ll break-up with you.**

**{Sourwolf}: Don’t. Do it. I kind of like you and would hate to do that.**

Stiles smiles to himself, feeling his throat close up and tears prickling in his eyes. It makes him want to leave right now and run to Derek’s place and crawl into bed with him.

The professor dismisses the class, Stiles stays seated for a minute to text Derek back.

**{Stiles}: I feel like an asshole. I know you have something planned, I was looking forward to seeing what you were going to do. And just seeing you in general.**

**{Sourwolf}: If it makes you feel any better, you’re kind of an asshole all the time.**

**{Stiles}: Ouch. Are you like me? But…fair. I can’t argue that.**

**{Sourwolf}: I’m sure I LOVE you. Now get to your next class. Don’t forget to grab something to eat and drink water, not anything too sugary. I’ll see you tomorrow. I love you.**

**{Stiles}: You take such good care of me, even from Beacon Hills. I love you too. **

\-----

Stiles can’t remember a single word of his last lecture, nothing. He walked in and handed in his paper and took his seat and then it’s just blank. He would like to believe he didn’t fall asleep, but considering the guy who sits next to him that’s asked him to coffee everyday this semester so far had to literally _shake_ him after everyone is packing? It’s safe to say he fell asleep.

He looks up with bleary eyes, drawing his eyebrows together.

“Rise and shine sleeping beauty.”

“Jordan,” Stiles groans out, reaching up to stretch his back. “I thought we talked about this.”

Jordan shoots him a pearly white grin. “You know I’m going to keep trying, I can be very persistent.”

Stiles grunts, grabbing his bag off the floor and heading toward the door. “Yeah well it’s getting fucking old.”

“Oh, someone’s a little bitchy today.” Jordan tries to tease, nudging Stiles as they move through the hall.

“Someone didn’t get much sleep.”

“Hm, I think you need a new relaxation technique. I have a few I could teach you.” Jordan leans in with a smirk, holding the door open for Stiles.

Stiles steps through the door and whirls on Jordan. “_Look_, Jordan. I’m not in the mood to deal with your shit today. I’m pissed off and tired. All I wanted to do was jump in my car after this fucking class and head home to my _boyfriend_, who wouldn’t appreciate you’re flirting all the time by the way. I was up literally _all_ night finishing that paper, so _because_ of this class I can’t drive home. If I even attempted, I may not wake up with a boyfriend anymore.”

“That’d be good news for me.” Jordan quips.

Stiles grabs the front of Jordan’s shirt, slamming him back against the wall. “Cut it the _fuck_ out! I’m done with this shit! You think your cute and funny, and maybe in high school you were; but here you’re just becoming every stereotype _frat boy_ people hear about on the news.”

Jordan pushes at Stiles’ chest. “What the fuck man! It’s college! Everyone has open relationships in college!”

Stiles narrows his eyes at Jordan. “_I_ don’t! And that’s _bullshit_ anyway! Just some shitty excuse to make the cheating _assholes_ feel less shitty about what they’ve done! Stay the fuck away from me. I have no interest in fucking up what I have with Derek on a piece of shit like you, understand?!” Stiles shoves Jordan one more time before pulling away.

Jordan shakes out the wrinkles in his jacket, glaring at Stiles. “You’re up here all week, sometimes you don’t even make it home on the weekend. What makes you think he’s staying faithful to _you_?”

The sound of a horn honking at the curb stops Stiles from jumping into another shouting match with Jordan. Stiles looks over his shoulder, a wide grin spreading across his face.

Stiles turns back to Jordan with a smug smile. “Because,” He starts, in answer to his question. “He just drove 6 hours after I told him I wasn’t going to make it home tonight.” Stiles takes off down the stairs as Derek climbs out of the Camaro; he launches himself off the last step at Derek who catches him with ease. Stiles presses his face into Derek’s neck, grinning at the vibration of the wolf’s pleased, low growl. “I can’t believe you drove all the way up here!”

“I could leave.” Derek tells him with a smile, setting him down. He takes Stiles face in both his hands, leaning in for a kiss.

“Don’t you _dare_.” Stiles scolds, mumbling against a pair of soft warm lips. “Mm.” Stiles hums. “You have no idea how happy I am to see you.”

Derek drags his nose along Stiles’ jaw, brushing his lips against his cheek. “I have some idea, yes. Do you want to say bye to your friend? We should get going.”

Stiles leans back in Derek’s arms. “Get going? Where?”

Derek smirks. “Home.”

Stiles feels a stinging in his eyes. “You did _not_ just drive 6 hours up here to drive right back to Beacon Hills! _Derek_! That’s insane!”

Derek shrugged, dropping his hand to takes Stiles’ and opening their arms wide, fingers linked together. “I wasn’t up all night, plus I grabbed a couple extra hours after you text me this morning. I knew you were upset about not driving down, and you and your dad have plans tomorrow before he goes into work in the evening. You would have been driving when you should be with him; I didn’t want you to miss that.”

“You’re…” Stiles shakes his head with a smile. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

“Well, I have my own selfish reason too.” Derek’s grin turns predatorially, sending a thrilling chill up Stiles’ spine. “I had some pretty big plans. So, you’re going to want to get as much sleep on the drive home as you can.” Derek leans in, biting at Stiles’ ear and whispering. “You won’t get much when we’re home.”

Stiles’ heart thumbs loudly; he starts pushing Derek toward the car. “Yeah, yeah. Okay, let’s go. We’re going _right_ now. Just need to stop off at the apartment and pack a bag.”

Derek walks Stiles around the car, opening his door. “Already did. It’s in the trunk with your pillow.”

Stiles leans over the door, pulling Derek into a long, desperate kiss. “Amazing.” He sighs. “Simple amazing.”

Derek chuckles, his eyes crinkling in the corner, closing the door for Stiles as he settles in. Derek start the car when he slides behind the wheel, glancing over to where Jordan is glued at the top of the stairs. He nods his head in the other man’s direction. “You want to say bye to your friend?”

Stiles looks up to Jordan, who glares at the sleek black Camaro unable to see the passengers through the tinted glass. He shakes his head, taking Derek’s hand. “He’s not a friend.” Derek raises a curious eyebrow, Stiles shakes his bringing their hands up and places a kiss on the back of Derek’s hand. “He’s not important. Let’s get going.”

\-----

Sun streams in through the large window of Derek’s loft, blinding Stiles before he’s even fully awake. He groans his dissatisfaction, twisting away from the offending beams and burrowing into Derek’s side. Derek turns toward him, draping his arm over his bare side, pulling him flush against his naked body.

“You need to get up.” He tells him, face buried in his hair.

Stiles grumbles in protest, the prospect of leaving a very naked Derek and his very warm bed was not a pleasing thought. “Why?”

“Your dad will be here in a couple hours.” Derek reminds him sleepily.

“This is your fault, it’s your fault that I’m so tired. I just want to _sleep_.”

Derek laughs softly. “I distinctly remember warning you; telling you to sleep on the drive down.”

“Maybe, but you still could have showed a little mercy and let me get to sleep a couple hours earlier.” Stiles tells him, starting to rock and move against Derek; his hand sliding down Derek’s back.

“You weren’t complaining last night.” Derek points out, tightening his arm around Stiles’ waist and biting at his neck. “We don’t have time for this right now.” He tells him.

“I know.” Stiles tells him, sounding out of breath. He pushes at Derek’s shoulder, moving him on his back so he’s able to straddle him. He grinds against Derek slowly, lowering down to pull him into a hot, wanting kiss, sucking on his bottom lip. “Just, just really quick. It’ll help wake me up.” He begs, fingers digging into Derek’s shoulder.

Derek grabs at Stiles’ waist, holding him still. “You’re killing me. I promised you dad you’d be ready to go. A rather embarrassing conversation and a little awkward.”

“I _am_ ready to go.”

“Fuck.” Derek closes his eyes, trying to control his breathing. “You’re the fucking devil.” He growls when Stiles’ long, slim finger wrap around the both of them.

“We can ju-just do this. This is good. I just…I _need_, Der.”

Derek barely holds back a thrush. “You were just complaining about last night. Me keeping you up? Did you forget what we were doing that kept you? Something similar to this.”

“_Technically_ it was this morning.” Stiles pants against his neck. “Just one more time; we’re at an odd number. You’ve made me come 7 times already, it’ll almost be a record Der. And the day’s not even over.”

“You should be sore, you shouldn’t even be able to get hard.” Derek grunts, rolling his hip in time with Stiles’ strokes.

“Oh, I’m sore. But I’m looking for a record here, Big Guy. Besides, it’s my birthday.”

Stiles tenses up, his free hand gripping Derek’s shoulder; Derek pulls Stiles flush against his body, rubbing against each other, warm skin against skin.

“Fuck, Derek.” Stiles pulls his hand from between their bodies, letting the fiction take care of them both.

“Stiles.” Derek whispers on a heavy pant.

It doesn’t take much more than the feeling of Derek’s scruff against Stiles’ neck before Stiles is gasping and moaning, his body becoming completely limp on top of Derek’s. The wolf rolls them over, grinding against Stiles, rubbing the release of his orgasm into their skin. The smell of them together and the sensation of Stiles’ pleasure being spread into his skin pushes him over the edge. He rocks slowly against Stiles, riding out the wave of pleasure until they’re both quivering.

Stiles’ hands roam up Derek’s back, tangling in his hair. “And we have number 8.” He hums happily.

Derek huffs, rolling on to his back, lolling his head to the side to watch the please smile spread across Stiles’ face. The boy’s eyes are closed, he smells content and happy and like love and a thousand other things Derek can’t seem to find words for. He smells like home. His own eyes take in every feature, from the mole on the side of his face, to the veins in his neck, down his freckled arm and torso. He sees the gleam of their come, spread around his abdomen. Unable to resist, he moves to hover over Stiles, leaning down, pressing soft, butterfly kisses to each freckle from his collarbone down to his navel then dragging his tongue back up to his nipple.

Stiles gasps, arching against the wolf. “Fuck.”

“I wish you could taste us the way I can.” Derek says into his skin.

“Damn it.” Stiles fists his hand in Derek’s hair, pulling him up roughly. “You want me to be ready to go out with my dad but you’re saying shit like _that_. You want to kill me. That’s clearly you one goal in life. Ugh.” Stiles groans, surging up to assaults Derek’s mouth. He hooks his leg around the wolf’s waist, rolling him onto his back again. He sits back, holding Derek down. “I’ve got to get up and shower before my dad ends up walking in with your _dick_ in my ass.” Stiles tilts his head thoughtfully. “Again.”

Derek lets out a bellowing laugh, smacking Stiles’ bare ass. “Then get going you pervert.”

Stiles squawks, scrambling off Derek. “Excuse me? Who literally fucked me against every and _all_ surfaces when we got here this morning? You literally fucked my up the stairs, Derek. A _public_ space.”

Derek shrugged. “My building. No one else here anyway.”

“Okay, but there _could_ be. What if you rented out the other spaced here?”

“Then my tenants would have gotten one hell of a show and they’d probably throw in a few extra bucks for rent this month.” Derek turned on his side, propping his head up with his fist.

Stiles throws a glance at him, rolling his eyes. “You’re like a fucking model, stop it. And so very clearly the one with the perverted thoughts, not me.”

“I’m just trying to fulfill all your fantasies. And I quote _one day Derek, you’re going to fuck me everywhere, and I mean **everywhere**. That table, the counter, that chair, the floor, stairs, against the walls. Everywhere, but tonight, let just start in the bed room_. Did I say stairs? Because you did.”

“Ugh, who fucking remembers _that_ and forgets medium iced half mocha chi latte light with oat milk and extra cinnamon.” Stiles turns on his heel, headed into the bathroom.

“Because that sounds disgusting. And I didn’t forget, I just refused to repeat that entire phrase to any living soul.” Derek hollers.

Stiles pokes his head out of the bathroom door, narrowing his eyes at Derek lounging on the bed. “And when I said the _stairs_ I meant the spiral stairs over there. Seemed like a challenge.”

“We good thing we those too. Mission accomplished.”

“I hate you so much.”

\-----

His dad surprised him with tickets to an early baseball game at the local community college, it was a fund-raising game between alumni and faculty and the current roster. Local businesses put in varying amount of funds, along with donations that were made at the gate and the full ticket value was also being added to the donation bucket. An oil company just outside Beacon Hills promised to donate $500 for every home run hit by the faculty and $1,000 for every grand slam. By the end of the game the oil company was passing off a check for $7,500 for the local children’s hospital and another $2,000 into the school itself.

His dad was able to push off his shift a few hours, allowing for an early dinner. Stiles doesn’t pester him about ordering a steak, he just smiled and talked with him about everything he could think of.

“So, this Jordan kid is a problem?” His father asks in his most stern and parental voice.

“I can handle him. He just wasn’t taking the hint, but I went off on him yesterday and then Derek pulled up.”

“Derek saw him? And he’s still breathing?”

Stiles flushes, looking down at his plate. “I, um, I didn’t tell Derek anything about him. There’s nothing _to_ tell. It was all harmless, until yesterday; he was trying to convince me to cheat on Derek. Like I would do anything to ruin what I have with him.”

“I think you need to let Derek at least know about this kid.”

Stiles groans, slumping down in his chair. “Now I feel like I did something _wrong_.”

Stiles’ father leans forward, resting his elbow on the table. “You haven’t done anything wrong. It’s more about respecting Derek; you owe it to him to tell him about someone basically harassing you. It took a lot for you and Derek to get where you are now; to get to this place of love and trust. For him to open up and let you in. You’re well aware of his past and of any reservations about relationships he may have had. Don’t lose his trust of something like this. All it is, is telling him about what’s going on while you’re at school.”

“So, I need to tell him every time someone says I have a nice smile?”

“I’m not saying that, but when someone’s intentions are clearly less then honorable and they try to tell you to cheat on your boyfriend, then yeah. You need to tell him.”

Stiles nods. “You’re right. I know you’re right. I was just tired and didn’t want to get into it last night.”

“So, you’ll let him?”

“I’ll tell him, before he takes me back up to school.”

\-----

Stiles went with his dad to the station at the start of his shift, smiling at everyone as he walked back to his dad’s office and blushing at the amount of birthday wishes.

His dad looks at him fondly over his desk, Stiles shifts uncomfortably under the weight of his gaze. “What?”

The sheriff shakes his head sadly. “I can’t believe you’re 21. Your mother would be proud of the man you’re becoming.”

Stiles feels a lump forming in his throat. “Dad, we just had a whole dinner for you to get all sappy on me. Now you’re going to do it when Derek’s on his way here?”

His dad wipes his eyes quick, clearing his throat. “Sorry, your right. I just…I wish she was here.”

“Me too, every day.” Stiles says quietly, closing his eyes. “I miss her.”

A large hand comes to rest on the back of his neck, he can sense someone in front of him. Opening his eyes, he expects his dad to be kneeling in front of him. He smiles, choking on a soft sob and leans forward into Derek’s chest.

Derek rubs his back, murmuring in his ear. “I know.” He tells him. Stiles wraps his arms around Derek’s shoulders, fingers biting into the leather of his jacket, turning his face into the crock of his neck. “Sh, it’s okay. I know, I know.”

Stiles hears the creaking of his father’s chair as he gets up; he walks over and squeezes his sons’ shoulder. He gives Derek a pat on the back before running his fingers through Stiles’ hair on his way out of his office.

Stiles lets himself feel sad about so many things for a minute longer; he thinks about his mother and her smiling face and sparking honey eyes, he thinks of his grandmother and her homemade cinnamon coffee cakes, he lets himself think of Allison and her infectious laugh. He remembers Boyd, quiet and stoic; he’d have made a great alpha. And then there’s Erica. Erica, who’s the hardest to think of for some reason. Stiles didn’t get a chance to really know her, but he’s certain they’d be great friends and be so close they’d make everyone nervous when they were left alone for too long. His partner in crime, who never got to be.

“Life sucks.” He mumbles into Derek’s neck.

“It can.”

“I miss them.”

“Me too.”

“_All_ of them.”

“I know.”

Stiles sighs, closing the door on all the sad thoughts floating around in his head. He sits back in the chair and looks at Derek with a tear streaked face.

Derek’s smile is soft, sad. He wipes either side of Stiles’ face with his thumbs. “Good?” He asks.

Stiles nods weakly. “Goodish. I’ll be fine.” He clears his throat, kissing Derek’s forehead before standing up. “I figured we can just hang out at the loft for a bit, I couldn’t really come up with anything good. I kind of just want to hang out with the pack, so I don’t really care what we do. I know everyone is kind of on standby, waiting for me to make up my mind.”

Derek slips his hand into Stiles’, leading him through the station. “No one’s waiting on you.”

“What do you mean? I been all over the place with what to do for my birthday.”

Derek nods. “Yes, that’s why I planned it for you. Everyone is already waiting.”

Stiles gazes at the side of Derek’s smirking face. “Waiting? Waiting where?”

Derek’s smirk morphs into a smile. “You’ll see.”

\-----

There is the sensation of heat at his front, the solid body of Derek at his back emanating a totally different type of heat. The blindfold make is impossible to see, he wants to panic at this new warmth enveloping him but he knows that Derek is there and he’d never let anything happen to him. He’s showing a lot of trust in the wolf right now, letting him plunge him into one of his greatest fears just to keep the surprise.

There’s a fire, he can hear the crackling around him; he takes comfort in the fact that Derek is walking into one of his own fears. It feels like solidarity and suddenly he’s no longer afraid to be blind.

Someone presses something cold into his hand. He jerks and make a noise.

“It’s wet!”

“Dude,” He hears Scott chuckle. “It was on ice.”

There’s a sweet smell wafting in the air, several actually; it makes Stiles wish he had the nose of his best friend and boyfriend.

“Okay.” Derek whispers in lowly in his ear, untying the blindfold. “Happy birthday, babe.” He says, pressing a gently kiss to his cheek.

Stiles opens his eyes, gazing around him look to each of the faces staring back at him. There are lights hung in the trees all around them, a fire roaming in the pit in the middle of a clearing. The shadows of the trees dancing with the flicking of the flames. A few tree stumps have been turned into tables with cookie and cupcakes and brownies on them. A basket sits near a cluster of chairs, Stiles can see a bag of puffy white marshmallows peeking out of it. Coolers are place all over, bags of ice stacked just outside the tree line and away from the fire.

The whole pack stand in front of the fire; Kira with Scott at her side, Mason and Cory, Liam, Malia, and Lydia; even Cora came up from South America. All grinning, all with drinks in their hands. They raise their drinks, solo cups and beer cans together.

“Happy birthday, Stiles!” The yell together.

Stiles turns to Derek with wonderment in his eyes.

Derek shrugs. “I knew you just wanted to have everyone together. Scott was convinced you wanted a big dinner, but I didn’t think you’d be comfortable with that. You wouldn’t have enjoyed it if you thought for one second anyone of us wasn’t having a good time.”

Stiles smiles up at Derek. “We could have just done this at the loft, or my dad’s house. Why out here?”

Derek shift his weight back and forth, Stiles watches a light blush creep up his neck in the firelight. “I want, more than anything, to show you off to my family. For you and Laura to gang up on me, for my mom to walk you through the tales and legends of the Hale pack, for my dad to work under the hood of your Jeep with you and my brother to talk movies with you. I want Boyd and Erica here. Allison. They should be here, they belong here. But, we can’t have that. I thought, this was the best way to have them all with us tonight. Everything started here in these woods; everything that’s happened comes back to these woods. And as much as I want to bring back what we’ve all lost, changing any of it might mean not having you. We can’t change the past, so it doesn’t feel too selfish to not want to change anything that would take you away from me. But I still wanted to let the others celebrate with us. So, just for tonight they’re with us, here in this spot, in these woods. All of them. Maybe they’re just out of eyeshot but they’re here, even if they have to go tomorrow, they are here tonight. For you.”

Stiles pulls Derek into a tight embrace. “This is absolutely perfect.” He turns back to his friend, he notices the tear Lydia wipes away and smiles. “Thank you, guys. This really…it means everything.” He raises the can Scott slipped him when he walked up. “Before we let ourselves empty these coolers and celebrate my birth, which let’s face it is the best day of all of your lives; let’s just remember all that we’ve gone through, all we’ve lost to get here. To be standing here. It wasn’t easy, but we’ve push through everything and come out the other side. So, to all of the Hales, to Laura, Erica and Boyd. To Allison and Aiden.” Stiles meet Lydia’s gaze, she gave him a faint smile. “We love you guys. Thanks for coming out.”

The group toasts their fallen friends and let silence fall among them, each thinking of a particular moment special to them.

Scott’s the one to break the silence. “Time to cheer this party up a little! Lydia, if you could get the music going. Stiles you look like you need another drink. Come on guys, our boy is 21!”

The pack hoots and hollers, the wolves throw their heads back and howl. Stiles grabs another drink and runs over to Kira and starts dancing when the music kicks in; he’s joined my Lydia and Malia, thrashing around and calling out to the others to join in.

\-----

Music thumps and echos through the forest; half of the sweets are gone, most of them settling in Stiles stomach along with several smores, which Derek had to take control of making when he almost tumbled into the fire.

Stiles in lying flat on the ground, laughing hysterically as he looks up at all the bright “stars”.

“They look so _weird_! And way too close.” He comments.

Scott raises and eyebrow, turning his gaze upward only seeing the tops of the trees. “Dude, those are just the lights.” He laughs. “You can’t even see the stars.”

“Scott! They’re right there!” Stiles insists.

“Thank god you’re your boyfriends’ problem now.”

“Mission accomplished!” Malia calls out with a wolfish grin.

“Sh!” Stiles sits up, waving at Scott to come closer. “Don’t tell Derek I have a boyfriend!”

“Oh Christ, are we _that_ drunk?” Scott smiles. “This will be fun, maybe you’re done for the night.”

“No!” Stiles scrambles and stumbles to get to his feet, his hands grabbing Scott’s shoulders to steady himself. “Another drink!” He turns and points straight out to his left. “Lydia and Cora are making out!”

“Oh my god!” Scott howls with laughter.

“That’s a _thing_?! Lydia!” Stiles calls out.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” Lydia grumbles, taking Cora’s hand. “Stiles’ sweetie, I love you but I just do not have the patients to deal with you when you are in this condition. I’ll check on you tomorrow.” She leans in, peeking his cheek. “Happy birthday, Stiles.”

Stiles stares at the two girls retreating forms in confusion. “Lydia’s gay?” He asks looking around.

Malia shrugs, patting Stiles’ cheek. “Lydia likes who she likes. God you’re stupid when you’re drunk. Stupid and forgetful.”

Derek makes his way to Stiles and Scott. Stiles has gotten his hands on another drink and had swallowed half of it before Scott is trying to reach for it.

“Stahp!” Stiles whines, twisting away from his friend. He sees Derek approaching and run to hide behind him. “Derek, help! He’s trying to steal my drink! Kill him!”

“I don’t think you’d be very happy with me in the morning.”

Derek turns, pulling Stiles to his side and helping his stay upright. “You’re sturdy.” Stiles tells him. “Strong too.”

Derek chuckles. “Oh yeah?”

Stiles nods, leaning in close to Derek. “Can I tell you something?”

“Always.”

Stiles’ face turns serious. “Don’t tell Derek-”

“God, Stiles. Really?” Derek groans.

“But I really like you. Like _really_ like you. But Derek will get mad so don’t tell him!”

“Okay, we’re going home. Say bye-bye.”

Stiles grins, waving at the remaining pack. “Bye-bye!”

Scott rolls his eyes, clapping Derek on the back. “We’ll clean up man. Good luck with him.”

“Scott!” Stiles stage whispers. “Scott! Look!” He points to Derek eagerly, a huge grin plastered on his face. Derek guides him toward the trees with a hand on his back. “I’m going home with Derek _Hale_! Can you believe it?!”

“Good for you buddy!” Scott tells him, throwing him a thumbs up.

Stiles stumbles on a tree root, lurching forward. Derek reaches out and catches him before he falls to the ground. Stiles looks to him with big eyes. “You just saved me. You’re going to get lucky tonight, in case you didn’t know.” Stiles tries for a wink, but he just ended up blinking.

“God, you’re a mess.”

“You have to _promise_, not to tell Derek. Okay, Derek?”

“You…you literally just told me not to tell myself that, what? You’re hitting on me? Stiles, you’re my boyfriend.”

“Psh, no! I’m _Derek’s_ boyfriend.”

Derek resists the urge to groan and roll his eyes. They break through the trees and Derek helps Stiles into his car. He kneels down in front of him before going to his side.

“Stiles. Who am I?”

Stiles smile, poking Derek’s nose. “You’re Derek silly.”

“Right, and who is your boyfriend?”

“Duh, _Derek_.” Stiles’ eyes go wide with realization. “Woah!”

“Yeah.” Derek shakes his head, kissing Stiles’ forehead as he straightens up. He closed the door and runs around the front of the Camaro. “Let get you home and into bed.”

“Mmhm, yeah. Get me to bed.”

Derek sighs heavily. “I know you think you’re being sexy and everything right now but, you’re failing miserably at it.”

\-----

Regret.

That’s what turning twenty-one feels like. Lots and _lots_ of regret.

It tastes like beer and tequila.

But thank God for Derek. Stiles would be dying if it wasn’t for Derek.

He wakes up, beyond groggy and fuzzy-headed, to a tall glass of water and a bottle of aspirin on the nightstand. There are black out curtains drawn over the windows, keeping the evil rays of sun at bay.

Derek is a _saint_.

The bed dips next to him, Derek rubs his back in small, soothing circles. “Hey.” He says softly. “How you feeling?”

Stiles groans into the pillow. “Like dying.”

“No dying; not today, please.”

“Mean.”

Derek chuckles softly. “Sorry. Hey, I made some eggs if you’re up to it. You should eat even if you feel sick.”

Stiles turns onto his back, Derek’s hand sliding to his stomach. “I don’t really feel _too_ sick. My head hurts like hell though. You wanna help me out?” Stiles asks with a pout.

“Sorry, I promised your dad that only help I’d give would to that glass of water, the bottle of pills, and breakfast. He said you insisted on it?”

Stiles huffs, pushing himself up. “Of course, he would remember my whole _I want to experience life normally_ rant. Ugh, I regret everything.”

“You’ll be okay in a few hours; take the aspirin, drink the water. I have some paperwork to catch up on, I’ll be in the office if you need anything.”

“Paperwork?” Stiles turns to Derek with a frown. “I thought we were going to have our epic date today? Breakfast, go to the lake, pack a picnic, do some swimming, go to the movies after, grab dinner. You know, the traditional Stiles birthday celebration?”

Derek’s smile falls, running his fingers through Stiles’ sleep mussed hair. “I know, I’m sorry. I pushed some of these contracts and offers to the side.”

Stiles’ expression sours. “That’s my fault, isn’t it? You put your work off to come up and get me the other day. And you only worked a couple hours yesterday.”

“It’s fine, I wanted to have you here; I wanted to go get you.”

“Yeah, but you came ‘cause you didn’t want me missing time with my dad. You put off your work for me and him.”

Derek’s face turns thoughtful. “I guess I did, but it made you happy. It was worth it; it sucks that it cuts into our plans today, but I can make it up to you later. I got an early start so it won’t take me long to finish up. We can still catch a movie, or we can go to the lake and then hit the drive-in. Whatever you want to do.”

Stiles smiles up at Derek. “You’re an incredible boyfriend and I love you, you know that?”

Derek leans in, pressing his lips to Stiles’. “You’ve told me enough times this weekend alone, I don’t think I could ever forget. Get some more rest.” Derek instructs, placing a soft kiss on Stiles’ forehead before rising off the bed. “I love you too.”

\-----

“So, be honest; how was everything?”

Stiles let out a laugh, rolling up his window as the Camaro breezes down the highway. “You always have to ask.”

“I just want to make sure you enjoyed everything.”

“I know.” Stiles tells him, sounding fond. “It’s adorable how insecure you can be about somethings still. Just to be clear, I had an amazing time; everything was perfect. You did good, Sourwolf. You always do good. And I don’t even care what we do, as long as I get to spend several hours in your company.”

Derek reach out to take Stiles’ hand, lacing their fingers together. “I’m glad.”

The drive a few minutes in a comfortable silence, only about 15 minutes from Derek’s loft. Stiles thinks back to his conversation with his dad the day before. Derek has shown Stiles, once again, just how much he means to him and how much he thinks about what he would want. The celebration in the woods, with the pack and the idea that the ones that have gone were with them in spirit because they were in the woods was incredibly moving. And was something Stiles didn’t even realize he wanted until it was happening. It made the day feel more complete.

Derek does deserve to know what’s going on while Stiles’ is at school; even if nothing has actually happened, he would probably appreciate knowing that there is someone trying to make things uncomfortable for Stiles.

“Hey, Der?” Derek hums in response, keeping his eyes on the road. “I need to let you know something; a development I guess, at school.”

Derek glances at Stiles, expression morphing to concern. “Is everything okay?”

“Fine! Everything is fine.” Stiles rushes, seeing the gears of doubt cranking in Derek’s mind; somehow, he knows the wolf went straight to _Stiles is leaving me_. “_We’re_ fine, I swear.” Derek visibly relaxes at the reassurance. “No, there’s just this kid in one of my classes. He’s been very flirty is all.” Stiles waves his right hand, making light of the whole thing.

“Flirty? Flirty how?”

Stiles shrugs, looking down to his lap. “I don’t know, like he asks me to grab a coffee with him or to study with him.”

“Maybe he’s just trying to make a friend?” Derek sounds like he’s trying to convince them both that it’s an innocent invitation.

“I thought that at first, but it was always coffee. Until I kept saying I couldn’t; because I was legitimately busy. Then he was asking to be study partners, which I don’t do well with because I have a very particular style of studying, as you well know.”

Derek draws his eyebrows together. “How many times has he asked you for coffee or to study?” Stiles is silent as they pull to the loft. “Stiles,” Derek presses, turning in his seat to look at Stiles. “How many times?”

“Every class this semester.” He mumbles, feeling ashamed he hadn’t thought to tell Derek sooner.

Derek’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. “_Every class_? This has been happening for two months?!”

“I can’t tell if you upset with this kid or angry with me.”

“I…” Derek shakes his head, climbing out of the Camaro. “I don’t know, to be perfectly honest.”

Stiles fumbles for the door handle, falling out of the car and running after Derek. “Derek, wait!”

“I can’t believe you’ve had someone coming after you for the whole semester and you didn’t bother to tell me.”

“Nothing’s happened with him! I didn’t think it was worth mentioning!” Stiles pleads with Derek up the stairs to the loft.

Derek turns abruptly, making Stiles stop short against his chest. “That’s not the point! I _know_ nothing has happened, I _trust_ you. And I’d smell him on you anyway. But there’s someone constantly bothering you and you never even brought it up. You tell me literally everything that happens during your day, _everything_. Things like they ran out of spoons in the café or your coffee tastes 3 degrees cold one day than it did another. You told me about the bold switch from whole milk to 2% in your cereal. I know when you use those tote bags or paper bags when you do shopping. Things that are nothing little details. Someone _hitting_ on you, which I assume is the bit you’re leaving out here, everyday isn’t some little detail.” Derek turns swiftly back around and stomps up the stairs. “And it’s clearly not just innocent flirting like you’re making it out to be.”

“Derek, come on.” Stiles follows Derek up into the loft, skidding to a halt when Derek’s yanked the door shut behind him. “Really?” Stiles groan, tugging at the locked door. “You’re not even going to let me _explain_? Well, too bad for you cause I have my set.” Stiles grumbles, digging in his pocket for his keys. He gets the door open and rushes into the loft, seeing the bottom floor empty. His shoulders sag, tears pricking in his eyes. “Derek, please.” He whispers, moving across the floor and up the spiral stairs.

He goes to the bedroom, empty, before moving down the short corridor to the small office. Derek is slumped of his desk, hands fisted in his hair.

Stiles steps through the doorway, afraid to enter any further. “I didn’t think about it, I didn’t think I needed to tell you because there wasn’t anything going on. It didn’t even cross my mind to say anything.” Stiles sighs, taking a tentative step forward.

“It was your friend, wasn’t it? The one you were with when I picked you up?”

Stiles threw his head back, groaning. “I _told_ you, he’s not my friend!”

Derek’s eyes raise up to meet Stiles’. “Do you like him?”

Stiles stares wide-eyed back at Derek. “Do I,” He shakes his head, unable to believe this is where the night has taken him. “Do I _like_ him? Are you seriously asking me that?”

Derek shrugs, leaning back in his chair with his arms across his chest. “It’s not really such a ridiculous thing to ask.”

“When it’s me it is, yeah! How could you possibly think that I feel anything but disgusted toward him?! I told him I have a boyfriend, a _boyfriend_ I am _extremely_ happy with; but he kept pushing.”

“You didn’t tell me for a reason.”

Stiles narrowed his eyes at Derek. “I _told_ you, I didn’t think it was worth mentioning. Because there’s nothing to even tell.”

“I heard you, but maybe there is.”

“What the fuck is even going _on_ right now?”

“What do you want me to think, Stiles? I drop anything to drive 6 hours to get you-”

“I didn’t ask you to do that!”

“I pull up and you’re face-to-face to some guy I now find out has been coming onto you this whole semester. Maybe there’s something you’re not acknowledging there.”

“I…I can’t believe what you’re saying right now.”

“You were so drunk last night you didn’t even know I was your boyfriend or that I was _Derek_.”

“I…I was _drunk_, Derek! I also remember being surprised that your sister and Lydia were making out! They’re _fucking engaged_!”

“Tell me what happened Thursday night.”

“Thursday night?”

“Yes, Thursday night. You were weird after we left, tense. Did I mess up some plan you had made?”

Stiles narrows his eyes in disbelief. “What _plans_ Derek? My _plans_ were to drive home!”

“Maybe things changed. Maybe your friend asked you out again and this time you said yes. I already told you not to drive home.” Derek shrugs. “So why not.”

“Un-fucking-believable. You can _not_ seriously be thinking that I was planning on going on a _date_ with Jordan!”

“So, his name is Jordan.”

“What the fuck does it _matter_ his name?! I can’t _believe_ what I’m being accused of right now!”

“Well I don’t fucking know Stiles! Apparently, we don’t tell each other everything anymore and the only reason I can think is that you and _Jordan_ are more than what you say you are.”

Stiles blinks, tears slipping down his face. “How could you think that? How could you _say_ that?”

“You never _told_ me about it, Stiles. Whether you know it or not, you were hiding it from me.”

“You don’t trust me.”

“What?”

“You said you trust me, but you don’t. You don’t trust me; after all the shit we have been through, you _still_ don’t trust me. I think…I think that hurts the most. Not you believing I would _ever_ even _think_ about cheating on you but not trusting me enough to _know_ I wouldn’t. I’ve never doubted you, even when Jordan said you probably weren’t being faithful; believing him wasn’t even an option. Because I _know_ you would never do that.”

Derek’s face softens, his shoulders drop and he uncrosses his arms. “Stiles-”

Stiles shakes his head, taking a step back. “No. You know what happened on Thursday? He pissed me off by insinuating I should get into bed with him. Said something about teaching me some new relaxation techniques. So, I slammed him against the wall, and told him to stay the fuck away from me. I told him there wasn’t anything that would make me jeopardize what I have with you.”

Derek gets up, moving around the desk. “Stiles, I-I’m sorry. I didn’t-”

“No, you fucking _didn’t_! Cause you jumped straight to ‘Stiles is _fucking_ someone else’ instead of _listening_ to me!”

Derek tries to reach out to Stiles; the boy shakes his head and turns out of the room. “Stiles, don’t do this; don’t leave.”

“I’m not in the mood to stay here right now.” He bites out, stomping down the hall to the bedroom. He grabs is bag and starts shoving things inside. “I’m going to stay at my dad’s, he’s off the next couple days.” He says, pushing past Derek in the doorway. He stomps down the stairs, Derek trailing behind him pleading as he goes. Stiles stops at the counter, grabbing the keys to the Camaro. “He can take me back up to school tomorrow; I’ll leave the keys to the Camaro on the kitchen table.”

“Stiles.” Derek says, his voice urgent and pained.

Stiles looks back at him, his hand on the door. “Happy birthday to me.” He says dryly, yanking open the door and walking out without a second glance at Derek.

\-----

“I know I should have told him when it looked like Jordan wasn’t going to back off, but I didn’t want him showing up in the middle of class and making a scene! And now…” Stiles sniffs, turning his head to look at his dad from where he’s lying on his stomach.

The sheriff sits across from in on the coffee table, rubbing his back. “Everything will be okay, son. You and Derek will be just fine; I know how much you love each other, there’s no end to a love like yours.”

“But how could he think that of me? That I’d _cheat_ on him! Or that I would even consider it?!”

His father sighs, brushing his hair back from his face. “I don’t know.” Stiles turns away, burring his face in the couch again.

The doorbell rings, the sheriff pats his sons back before getting to his feet. He opens the door and stares in silent surprise.

“Don’t slam the door in my face, please.” Derek asks softly.

He looks drained, and, if possible, sadder than his sulking, depressed, son in the next room. The sheriff forces Derek to take a step back, walking out on to the front stoup with him. “My son is lying with his head literally buried in the couch.”

Derek swallows. “I-I know.”

“You can hear him in there, right?” Derek looks down at his shoes, nodding. “You can _smell_ how he feels?” Derek nods again. “You’re the reason for that. So, tell me one _good_ reason why I shouldn’t kick your ass out of here?”

“I don’t have one, not one that wouldn’t sound like an excuse and I don’t want to make excuses.” Derek takes a deep breath before meeting the sheriff’s hard gaze. “You know I love him, I’d do anything for him. And it kills me that I had a moment of doubt and weakness that lead to him hurting in there. I-I’ve tried so hard to keep him safe and protect him from all the shit the runs through here; I lay awake praying nothing finds him while he’s at school, when I can’t be there to protect him. Now I’m the monster people used to see me as, I’m the one who’s hurt him this time.”

The sheriff’s expression softens. “You’re not a monster Derek. You only human.”

“But I’m not, am I? I _am_ a monster. I don’t know what made me think…I know Stiles would never get involved with anyone else. I just…”

“Got scared?”

“I guess. What if I’m holding him back? What is he feels like he’s missing out on something because he’s being held down by a boyfriend he only sees every other weekend? That’s not fair to him, and if he meets someone I don’t want him to feel like he owes me anything. I want him to be happy.”

“Well, he’s not very happy right now.” The sheriff sighs, stepping around Derek off the stoup. “The only way you’re going to get answers to any of those questions you have, is to go in there and ask Stiles yourself.”

Derek pivots, following the sheriff’s movements down the driveway. “You’re leaving?”

“I’m going out for a bit to get my heartbroken son his favorite Chinese take-out.” The sheriff reaches his car, looking back at Derek with the door open. “You do what you want Derek, but if I come back and my son is still in my living room crying, as much as I like you, you won’t be welcome back here.”

With that, the sheriff gets in his car and pulls out of the driveway, leaving Derek to contemplate his next step.

Derek gives himself a minute to ready himself for the stench of misery and heartache that lies behind the door. He enters the house slowly, shutting the door with a soft click. Stiles is face down on the couch, tremors coursing through his body with sporadic sobs. Derek slips his shoes off by the door, treading lighting into the room. He kneels on the floor, by Stiles’ hip.

“Who was that?” Stiles mumbles against the couch cushion, sounded uninterested but still unable to refrain from asking; his curiosity always getting the better of him.

Derek pauses, he doesn’t want to upset Stiles further but he can just stay silent; turning and just seeing the wolf there was sure to anger Stiles. He takes a deep breath, preparing for yelling and harsh words but promising himself that he will _not_raise his voice; he’s the reason Stiles doesn’t even want him to drive him back to school.

“Me.” He finally says, unable to come up with anything better.

He hears Stiles’ heart stutter before he turns his head, red puffy eyes looking back at him. “Get out, I don’t want you here.” He tells Derek, his heartbeat contradicting his words.

Derek reaches out to touch him, his jaw twitching in frustration when Stiles tips his body away from him. He lets his hand drop to his lap. “I’m sorry.”

“Great. But, I’m actually waiting on my _other_ boyfriend, so you should go.” Stiles turn his whole body away from Derek.

Derek sighs, feeling broken and useless. “I’m an asshole. I let the tiniest sliver of doubt creep into my mind and it wasn’t even that it was _doubt_. You told me about that kid and suddenly it hit me; you’re in _college_.” Stiles scoffed. “Stiles, there’s so much more you could be experiencing if you weren’t…if _we_ weren’t together. I thought that maybe I was holding you back from living the _full_ college experience, that maybe you felt like you were missing out on something.”

“That stupid.” Stiles mutters, sourly.

“It is, and…it’s not.”

Finally, Stiles turns half his body around; twisting his torso to face Derek with a raised eyebrow. “How is that not stupid?”

Derek feels the mood start to shift, Stiles is still upset but he’s being inquisitive which is good. He reaches out and places his hand on the boy’s arm. “You should feel free to do whatever you want while at school, not have to worry about the boyfriend you have at home. I know how much you love me, really, I do. But you’re still so young-”

“Not this again. Derek you’re not that much older.”

“I’m nearly 30, Stiles.”

Stiles turns the rest of his body so he’s lying flat on his back, his head on the armrest turned to Derek. “The age difference never bothered you before.” He points out sadly, lowing his eyes.

“It did, actually. I’ve always been afraid that you’d wake up one morning and realize that the only other relationship you’ve been in was when you were with Malia. That you’d want to see who else is out there for you, maybe there is someone else out there for you; someone better.”

Stiles pushes himself up, swinging his legs over and planting his feet on the floor on either side of Derek. He leans forward, tears still glistening in his eyes, cupping Derek’s face in his hands. “_That’s_ what this is about?” Derek’s eyes fall shut, he sinks forward, pressing his forehead to Stiles’ chest. “I thought we were done with this? We _worked_ on this, Der.” Stiles’ finger move through the wolf’s hair, scratching his scalp. “Where did this come from?”

Derek sighs, bringing his arms around Stiles’ waist. “You remember that nymph that tore through here a few months ago? It…it said something to me and at the time I just brushed it off; it was causing mayhem in everyone else’s life so I didn’t really think anything about what it said. But I guess it just stuck with me, had me coming back to it.”

“What did is say?”

“It told me that I was taking something from you that I had no right to. That you were special and that you had a fire burning in you that I was slowly putting out. I wasn’t good enough to have you, that you felt bad for me. You were only with me out of pity. Then _Jordan_…I think something just, _broke_. Suddenly those things the nymph said weren’t so crazy; you found someone while at school. That’s where my head instantly went, there wasn’t any other thought other than _well I guess that thing was right_.”

Stiles gently pushes Derek’s head away from his chest, leaning down to bring their forehead together. He closes his eyes, curling his fingers around his neck. “It wasn’t right.” He tells him, shaking his head. “It was so very, very _wrong_. You know that, you _have_ to know that.” Derek makes a small noise. “_Derek_.”

“I know. I _know._”

“I love you _so_ much. There are people I pass at school and I hear comments about them; how nice they are, how funny they are, how _cute_. I see them and they’re nothing. It’s like looking at a blank canvas…or Scott.” Derek huffs a short laugh, tipping his head back to look at Stiles who smiles back at him. “I never look at anyone and think, _I wonder what our first date would look like_. There isn’t anyone that I see that makes me wish I wasn’t with you, it doesn’t matter that I was only ever with Malia before you; not when I’ve been in love with you since I held your head above water. That’s a long time, Der. I was in love with you when I was dating Malia. I was too afraid to ever tell you, afraid it was a phase or just a crush. I didn’t see the point in putting myself through that rejection if it was just a crush. You also didn’t seem like you were, I don’t know, ready? For a relationship?”

Derek bring a hand to Stiles’ cheek, brushing his thumb over his bottom lip. “I don’t know that I was; I wasn’t really in the right place for anything for a while there.” Stiles take a deep breath in, letting it out slowly as he sits back. He tugs Derek’s arm, trying to get him onto the couch. The wolf slides next him, tucking him into his side; a feeling of relief washing over him. “You’re not mad at me anymore?” He asks meekly.

Stiles pulls his legs up on the couch, tucking them under his body and curling up against Derek. “I’m still a _little_ mad, yes. I mean, how could you think I would do anything so terrible, to you of _all_ people? I know what you’ve been through, Derek. I wouldn’t do anything to betray your trust. If I ever, for one second, thought I had found someone else I would tell you. I wouldn’t drag you around like that.”

“So, you’d dump me first?” Derek ask in a more playful tone.

“I certainly wouldn’t ever cheat on you. Besides, that juggling act people do in the movies when they’re having a secret relationship always seems like so much work.” Derek hums, resting his head atop Stiles’. “Okay, so to recap: you were an asshole who thought I’d have the energy to have an affair with someone who is so obviously below my very _high_ standard and also not a werewolf. I leave, devastated, and tell my elderly father he has to drive me back to school.”

“He’s not elderly, Stiles.”

“I have to then, cry on my father’s shoulder and _beg_ him not to go ‘shoot that werewolf son of a bitch’. Doorbell rings, surprise! It’s that werewolf son of a bitch, who my dad allows to come in while he’s conveniently out getting dinner. You’re a moron who lets the words of a fuckin nymph sit and fester which makes you act like an asshole. Your self-loathing phase starts creeping up again, even though we talked about this at great lengths.”

“I wouldn’t call it self-loathing.” Derek mumbles. “Self-doubt, maybe.”

“I don’t care what you want to call it, it was stupid and you’re an idiot. You know, you’re a hypocrite, right?”

“What, how?”

Stiles tilts his head up with a raised eyebrow. “Seriously? You got mad cause I didn’t tell you that Jordan was bugging me so much but then you never thought to tell me what the nymph said about _us._ Don’t you think this whole thing could have been avoided had you just told me all that?”

“Don’t you think it could have been avoid had you just told me about Jordan?”

“I don’t think you’re in any position to be making counter arguments.” Stiles told him, narrowing his eyes at Derek. “But, I think if I told you I was getting relentlessly hit on me by a classmate you would have driven up there and got all possessive and territorial.”

Derek shrugs, letting his head fall back against the couch. “Maybe. But what would you have to complain about? Don’t think for one second, I don’t know how much you love when I get possessive.”

“So, what if I do, still I don’t need a whole big scene up at school.” Stiles sighed, sinking down on the couch to rest his head in Derek’s lap. “Let’s just move on. We’ve mostly cleared all of this up, found a new issue I’ve got to work on with you now. And you’re here now so I can end with weekend with you instead of staring up at my ceiling alone in bed tonight.”

Derek cards his fingers through Stiles’ hair blindly. “And since you’re no longer miserable, your dad won’t kick me out and ban me from the house.”

Stiles chuckled. “He was going to ban you? He’s such a great father.”


End file.
